Wayward Son
by DirkTJC
Summary: A man with an ancient past trying to secure a future (Trust me, its not as dark as it seems) Read and Respond please!
1. IntroJihad and CH1 Signs

Wayward Son  
(Part 1 of the Jihad Trilogy)  
  
Jihad  
Deep in the desert of what used to be known as the Sahara, the moon is just beginning to peek out as the sun continues its descent. As the soft winds blow the sands into the dunes that make up the sea of the Sahara, he continues his solitary march. Fully knowing his fate he continues walking as a single thought fills his entire consciousness, imbuing him with the will to continue. Leaning heavily on his scrap metal staff, he sees his goal through blood hazed eyes. Only the thought keeps him going, only the memory of those who fought and fell with him in the field of battle keep him company, offer solace for his troubled, sinful past. Specters all of them, now only living in his fragmented memory, coming up in glimpses of a better time. The accident....his escape....The first time he met the couple that would change his life...seeing his first core...the raven test...and then the other, that horrible abomination. With that image he begins a downward spiral to the depths of the darker parts of his psyche, the death of his family......his first kill...the death of the couple that taught him, and the leering face full of fury and joy as they erupted into the fusion powered inferno as their cores were blown to oblivion. And then it came, the image of that red core, that terrible creation of a man's foolish ambition to create a god. They had tried to stop it, truly they did, but it was all in vain, they only managed to enrage it, to make it focus that horrible red eye upon them. Then there was only him, standing in front of this being that had no heavenly business existing in this world. The figure blinks blearily up at the setting sun, knowing it was his hourglass, for the temperature drop at night would surely finish him. Forcing himself to forget he continues toward his goal, if only he can get to it there might be a chance. He would happily die here after all that which he went through, his mission is complete, why must he be tortured in this manner, all he wanted to do was sleep in the warm alloy embrace of his companion. Alas the fates had a much crueler role for this man to play in the vast story of the Nest, one that would bring him to the brink of destruction and back, and only then may he find some measure of peace. The figure collapses in the sea of sand, muttering his final words to the uncaring winds and the massive giant that lay eviscerated a mere feet in front of him.  
  
"Blackjack...."  
Signs  
  
The city of New Haven was usually quiet, people liked to keep to themselves, mind their own business. You can't be accountable for what you didn't do, even better if you didn't know about it. Tonight though, a forgotten shadow seemed bent on breaking the rules. In one of the many small alleyways that seemed to pop up faster then the buildings themselves, a scream pierced the tranquil night.  
  
"AAAAAAAAARRGGHHHH!!! Dammit!! I told you I don't know anything," the average street thug gritted through his teeth while clutching his ruined shoulder.  
  
Seemingly oblivious to the man's pleas, the specter repeated his question, "What have you done with him?" He punctuated the last word by slamming his boot into the poor thug's shoulder and twisting it.  
  
"AAAAAARRRRRGGGGHHH!! I told you, I don't know, they don't tell me anything you'd have to ask Dusk ARRGGHHH!" The figure relinquished the pressure on the man's shoulder, and left the alleyway silent except for the whimpers and moans of the broken man.  
  
"Dusk..."  
  
New Haven Arena 12:30 P.M. Grand Melee Finals  
  
The Grand Melee was for lack of a better term, the biggest AC brawl in arena history. Twenty ACs went in and only one came out in one piece.  
Today's crowd favorites were a surprising newcomer who decimated the competition in all his previous matches, but lacked the finesse to be considered a Blader, which was a title many strove for but few attained in this new age. The second was the current champion, Dusk riding his favorite steed, Nightfall into the fray. Nightfall boasted an impressive arsenal consisting of medium legs and arms with an ORCA core and blade arms. The latter gave a chill to all those who were about to face him, it signified him as a Blader, and one of the best at that. A chain gun and small missile launcher rounded off the machine into a fearsome juggernaut. Its bright orange and red visage supported this image, and had given him the reputation as the "Scarlet Fury".  
  
The contender's machine was of a slightly unorthodox style for the event. While most ACs in the competition this day sported no blade, this able bodied warrior did in fact equip one. This confirmed the crowd's suspicion that he wanted Dusk's Blader title, and assured the audience a good show. In addition to that he equipped a small grenade launcher and extra ammo pack on his back, a rifle, and the said blade, based on a new design sacrificing power for range and speed. His core was medium weight with an overboost system, and better then average AP. His legs were at a strange angle with the knee joint in front covered by armor instead of in the leg, like most bipedal designs of the time. The head was a MISTEYE giving it a slanted view as if the machine was angry and furrowing its brow in rage. A dull gray hue covered all its parts, showing that he was in fact a new contender and had not thought to paint his machine before the matches. The only emblem was that of a black winged angel with its sword of flame held high as if to challenge all who gathered to come for him. The AC's name was Xavier, a name that the viewers this night would remember for ages, even after the pilots name faded back into obscurity, as it was, for that matter, right now. He had requested not to be known till he won, and he told this to all those who came to register that day achieving him a place of infamy, and from some, grudging respect.  
  
The crowd was getting unruly with all the waiting, so the arena higher ups decided they better start the show.  
  
The arena was designed in the lost style of the Roman Coliseum, favoring arched entrances for the warriors, and a circular shape so that the onlookers could see all from their box seats 300 yards up and protected by the most reliable shield to date.  
  
The fighters entered the arena as their titles were announced to the glee and delight of the onlookers. Such a plethora of ACs was a rare sight indeed; the range was from the smallest to the largest core in production, with such a variety of weapons as to make even the hardest general drool. The two previously mentioned contenders, by fate of design or by a higher power, ended up directly opposite of each other as the AC's lined the walls and prepared for that singular surge forward where the Melee would begin.  
  
Then the five light counter flickered on, and all fell silent.  
  
"Hey, newb! Don't scratch your pretty paint job!" whispered Dusk over the Commlink  
  
"Feh," and an enigmatic feral grin were the arrogant gentleman's only reply as he throttled his fusion reactor to full power and prepared to release the limiter.  
  
The small conversation took 3 of the five lights, and now the entire arena hummed with energy, and raw power.  
  
On the second light a siren began to screech through the massive hall, and the crowd burst into an uproar, anticipating the carnage they were about view, anticipating the bloodshed.  
  
At the final light all the contender's raced toward the center intent on carnage and destruction, most got caught up in small skirmishes immediately, some just smashed into each other at full speed shedding armor like paper.  
  
Two contenders however continued their suicide run, oblivious to the whirlwind around them, completely focused on the image in front of them. The enigma fired 3 grenade rounds that spiraled in toward their target intending to take off one of those deadly blade arms. The "Scarlet Fury" was ready for such a trite attack and went into an almost lazy spiral to the left as he fired a volley of his missiles at his opponent's heart. Without loosing any momentum the rookie dodged 3 of the four missiles, and methodically blasted the other out of the sky in three shots from his rifle. Unluckily he had lost sight of his opponent who had now covered half the ground between the two, and was now pelting the area in a barrage of chain gun and Orbiter fire. Understanding that a sacrifice needed to be made, the man who was once thought to be a rookie, throttled his boosters to full and ran headfirst into the manmade fire. The "Scarlet Fury" grinned with glee inside his cockpit, his face illuminated by the harsh red glow of the monitor. The grin was short lived, and soon twisted into a snarl as the plain gray AC emerged in front of him, swinging his blade and rifle in tandem, efficiently knocking out both the machine gun and the unused missile launcher on his shoulder. Both competitors boosted away from each other, giving both some room to breath. The entire ordeal happened in less than a minute, and in that time 7 of the other AC's had fallen to their own inexperience. However, the enigma's AC did not escape unscathed, all of its back weapon systems were trashed, and the barrel had been bent in his last fierce charge.  
  
Both opponents extended their blades knowing that this was where the true fight would begin. Once again though fate had other plans, Xavier was assaulted by a volley from three other AC's who saturated the doomed AC in crimson hell.  
  
"Damn it!! You son of a bit!!" were the last words the Enigma screamed as he drifted into the uncaring abyss, the last thing he heard was the jeering laughter of Dusk before everything went dark...  
  
On top of the open air arena stood a solitary figure draped in black, watching the battle unfold before his eyes knowing how every move would end, and who would die. This is the burden of his skill, watching without the ability to stop or warn, watching the world move behind a pane of one way glass. He noted the deceit as the underlings of Dusk took out the honorable young man in a way that seemed so familiar to him for some reason. The thought stayed only for a mere moment when more imminent concerns filled his thoughts as the announcer called the victor by name. A name that the specter repeated to the midsummer winds that settled across the city, beckoning back memories of better times.  
  
"Dusk..." 


	2. Ch2 Encounter

Encounter  
  
God made the world in seven days...I'll knock it down in two... -1st King  
  
After the Grand Melee, people began to leave the arena with a sense of great contentment. Many went to bars or clubs and began to tell the tale of how the "Scarlet Fury" defended his title with unparalleled skill and grace. Indeed everyone seemed to be satisfied with the outcome of the scuttle. All except...  
  
"GOD DAMNIT!" the unknown pilot screeched while slamming his fist into the scorched foot of his beautiful Xavier.  
  
"Watch it Darien!" a young woman behind him tried to say but missed her chance the damage was done.  
  
"Oh F@#$!" Darien continued to rant like this while the young woman stood in wonderment at this man's stupidity.  
  
"And you're a Raven?" She called over her shoulder as she brushed by to check the damage on their poor baby "aaww what did he do to you?"  
  
"It wasn't me it was that son of a aaaaaAAARRGGHHH."  
  
Shaking her head the girl continued about her work, not bothering to cast a glance at her partner, whom she used to think had at least a shred of common sense left. Sigh.  
"Yeah I saw it, you got gangbanged by 3 AC's who ain't gonna call you back, and left without a goodnight kiss, (sigh) pathetic."  
  
"Hey try to say that to my face, Cam!"  
  
Cammy wheeled around to face a man of about 6 foot tall, with bleached white hair. He had a muscular build, and was wearing a jumpsuit, in addition, to Cammy's delight, the Dragon pin she gave him for his birthday on his left lapel.  
  
Quite angered with the damage to her baby, she walked right up to him, grabbed the front of his jumpsuit and slowly told him again "You...suck...as..a...RAVEN!!" the last part she screamed so loud that she knocked him back against the wall of their cramped repair bay.  
  
Having slightly more intelligence then she gave him credit for, he shut up, and went to a workbench on the left side of their little area to nurse his wounded foot and pride. Soon, he began to measure up his partner in crime. The girl boasted a total 5 foot 5 inches max, but had a frame that filled out her height quite nicely. The suspenders and long ponytail added to this little girl image, but he knew better, having been at the receiving end of the wrench she was using right now on more then one occasion. His thoughts did not linger though; soon he turned to thoughts of the match, and was quickly overcome with rage. Intent on his revenge he got out of the chair so swiftly he startled his tiny comrade into dropping her wrench.  
  
"Hey watch I...where are you going?!"  
  
"To settle a score."  
  
"No wait, Darien come back!" she cried after his retreating figure but the door closed at that instant cutting her plea short.. Not again.  
  
Outside "Scarlet Fury" repair bay 1:05 A.M.  
  
Rumors spread quickly in the arena, especially violent ones, this one dealt with a certain silver haired youth intend on some destruction.  
  
"Of all the dirty tricks! I'll make him wish he never heard of me or Xavier." By this time he had totally forgotten he went into the Melee anonymously but pity the soul who tries. Ill make him wish he was ne...ver....born... were his last thoughts as he entered the well equipped bay of the reigning champ. The only eyes that met his were blood red and could not possibly belong on the realm of the living.  
  
A man...no a boy really, he couldn't be more then 17...how'd a minor get back here!?  
  
The "boy" in question wore an outfit that fit the menace given off by his eyes. He was dressed all in black, black boots, black shirt, black pants, black duster and a black hat with half moon shades slid halfway down his nose. The only article that was not black was the pendant that dangled freely from his neck. He couldn't have been over 5 foot 8 inches, hence Darien's previous assumption that this was a mere child. That image was shattered when Darien broadened his view to take in the whole scene. Blood covered the console in the far corner of the wall and left a hellish red mark upon the floor, as if someone had been dragged...to. Darien found where the trail of blood led... it led to Dusk impaled on a slender blade that protruded from the youth's sleeve. Something was wrong though..Dusk...Dusk...  
  
Holy shit. It slowly dawned on Darien that Dusk Had ceased to be from the armpits down, and that the other part... or parts of him had been thrown across the room like some ungodly mockery of a child who had broken one of his favorite toys then obliterated it in his rage.  
  
Darien returned his view to the youth's eyes; they bore into his soul as he returned the stare. They held that position for hours it seemed, one staring with the intensity of a predator, the other searching for some sort of answer. For you see, Darien had never seen anyone dead before. As a Raven he had killed many a fair and just man, but always from the protective shell of an AC, he had never seen real blood shed, until now.  
  
Finally he found his voice, "Wh-who are you?"  
  
The boy youth offered no answer, no explanation but continued staring with that intense gaze, boring deeper into Darien's soul as if searching for something.  
  
The moment was lost as a siren went off signifying that the murder had been discovered. With a sneer the youth in black actually jumped on top of the Nightfall and jumped into a open ventilation duct, that Darien, dully thought must have been how he entered the building. And just like that he was gone.  
  
Darien stood staring at the duct till the Haven police came to investigate; the only statement they could get out of him was...  
  
"Ruby eyes..." 


	3. Ch 3 Crescendo

Crescendo "Her highness is my will Her blade is my strength Their destruction my dream... Please, grant me the strength to fulfill my dream..." - 2nd King, Requests of Peace  
  
The chill of the winds fought to enter the coat of the Specter. The Specter thrived at this time, had in fact, for a so very long. He understood what he had to do next, Dusk had been true in his answer, most are after losing an arm and a leg.  
  
Wait...what...h-how... It came back to him, another one of his sins, another link in the chains that binded his soul to this world.  
  
Enough... it can not be unmade. Truth wrapped in the silk in sheets of something sinister had kept him going these years. Was the only thing that kept him going for so long.  
  
His revere was broken when an armored car drove up in from of the Crest building, that loomed over his own lofty perch across the street. His thoughts turned quickly to calculating various attack patterns, while factoring in the forces brought against him.  
  
Indeed he has done this for a long time, and he would do it again tonight, and again, until his own time of judgment was at hand. He offered a quick prayer to the winds as he dived from his loft into the all encompassing night...  
  
"Thy will be done..."  
  
Crest's New Haven office 3:00 A.M. Holding Area C  
  
CRASH!!  
  
The noise reverberated through the small space like the crack from a gun, as a certain white haired upstart fell to the ground clutching his shoulder in pain.  
  
DAMNIT why the hell am I here!? I didn't kill that sorry bastard and they know it! This guest of Crests hospitality had had a very bad night indeed. The guest in question having recovered from his shock, had been accosted by Crest's agents before the police could question him, and whisked away in an armored car, and thrown quite against his will into a cell somewhere within the depths of the corporation's office.  
  
Cammy's gonna kill me when I get back from...WHY THE HELL AM I HERE!?!  
  
To Darien's dismay, the answer might have just walked in. The "answer" was a bear of a man carrying what appeared to be some off breed of a tanto but had a spiked hand guard which gave off the impression that it was not for self defense. Cursing his luck he obeyed the man's order to get out of the cell and march down one of the thousands of corridors that lined the building. He was taken to a room roughly 100 meters long and 50 meters wide. Darien could tell that he was in a MT or AC support bay from the various equipment that lined the walls. He then noticed that he was on a scaffold and not the main floor of the bay, and that while there was a suitable entrance for Cores on one end, the other end was obscured from view, due to the lack of light and the size of the room.  
  
"Now I bet your wondering why you're here hmm?" Darien whirled around to the source of the voice and found a portly man in an impeccable black dress suit. The man had been smoking a cigar for a long time, a thin halo of smoke formed around his head.  
  
"Yeah, that would be nice if you have the time I mean, I wouldn't want to impose on your precious time."  
  
"Ah yes your incorrigible wit, I remember from your files that you're quite the screw up eh Darien?" the man said with a small smile.  
  
"Oh yeah I'm hilarious, why don't you come over here and I'll tell you a few of my favorite jokes?" Darien muttered through clenched teeth.  
  
"That's quite alright my boy, I know you don't want to waste my time, correct?"  
  
slippery bastard!!  
  
"We are both men of, ah, well what I mean to say is we are both civilized men am I right?" Not waiting for an answer, the man continued. " Then let me get down to the point, Dusk was, ah, how should I put it... a acquisitioner or rare and expensive finds."  
  
"He was a thief."  
  
"Quite a good one at that, now where was I, ah yes, one of the many things he acquired for me was technology, technology rules this age my boy, one makes a bigger gun the other makes a bigger shield, and so on."  
  
This pig liked the sound of his own voice, that's common knowledge anyone out of tertiary school knows that!  
  
As if on queue the man continued, "Ah but that is common knowledge isn't it eh? But here's something you don't know. Technology has taken a downturn since the great destruction, slowly become more and more inefficient, weak, and fragile. The height of the post war technology comes from the old beginnings of arena fights on this our Earth."  
  
"Impossible! Technology improves with time, not the other way around, just what are you getting at you corporate pig."  
  
The man's beady little eyes narrowed "Maybe your not that civilized after all, oh well, a pity really, I had hoped to use you in the plan, but ah well." The portly man snapped his fingers "Bruno...kill him."  
  
Ah Hell.  
  
Bruno began to advance with his deadly tanto held parallel to his body in his outstretched hand, while the other pulled back into a fist, ready for battle.  
  
"I must say I meant it when I said it was a pity, however can't have loose ends running around can we? Time to end it eh?"  
  
Another voice broke into the conversation, a low alto voice that shook Darien to the soul.  
  
"Return him..."  
  
The porky man looked toward the bottom of the bay and shook with fury at what met he saw "How the hell did you get in here you little brat!?"  
  
Darien turned away from his assailant as his insides turned to ice at the figure that stood before them.  
  
The specter had arrived... 


End file.
